You Capture: My Happy Story

I love this week's You Capture because the theme is "Your Happy Story" and it falls during the same week as my husband's birthday. And I think I'm just about as excited about my husband's birthday as he is (well he may not be, really, he's getting up there...) because this is the day 30-something years ago (don't worry, honey, not "outing" your age here) that he came into this world.

And well, because of that, he sort of re-wrote my story.


Before we met, my story was about climbing corporate ladders, chaos, fast paces, and a little recklessness. Marriage and children was an afterthought and I wasn't actually sure I'd ever get to it.

But he changed that. He changed me (not in the Twilight way, though, in case you were wondering.)

He changed my story.

To this.

And I couldn't ask for a better re-write to my story.

My husband is an athlete. He's smart; he was in college before he was 18 and in a fraternity before he could get into any clubs. He's freakin' hilarious. His dance to the beginning of American Idol is so funny that my eyes stream tears from laughter and it may or may not have sent me into labor once. Also, he will never admit to a soul that he does this dance, but I assure you, it does exist.

And he's sensitive. I say that because that handle he's holding goes to a little red wagon pulling those two little mens and his back is carrying a diaper bag.
Most people don't know his softy side, but I do. That arm wheels a little red wagon around a pumpkin patch with two little mens in it, gives great big huge hugs, holds hands, changes diapers, pets kitty cats, waters plants that his wife neglects, home improves, folds laundry, mows lawns, puts up Christmas lights and at the end of the day, turns a key every night to come into the house we made into a home together.

Happy Birthday, honey. Thank you for making my story so happy. I love you.

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You Capture: My Happy Story

https://babytealeaves.blogspot.com/2009/12/you-capture-my-happy-story.html?m=0

Being Present

Sometimes I just feel so selfish.

I (secretly) get angry when potty training goes bad, when one of the boys pushes down the other one, when there are dishes left in the sink overnight, when the house gets messy 5 minutes after I clean it...

I mean, things really get my goat. Stupid things. Inconsequential things. My face gets hot, my head starts to hurt, and I feel the steam building like Frankenstein and the bolts want to burst free from my neck.

And sometimes they do. I completely lose it. And I yell. And maybe a time or two, I've caught msyelf throwing things. We have three cordless phone bases and yada yada yada...only two phones.

Then when all is quiet, I sit down and I think, what for? Why do I let these stupid little petty things bother me? Isn't it ridiculous? I've been thinking (again) a lot about my life as I so often do. How I should worry less and cherish more. And about how things could always be worse. But how I'm not even in a bad place, I'm actually in a wonderful place! The most wonderful place I have ever been in my life! And with each annoyance, each sarcastic remark, I'm letting it all pass by me and losing these moments forever.

I think about things like watching my little boy standing at the sliding glass door making hand prints all over it while watching the airplanes go by overhead and how it's something I want to paste in my memory forever. Because it only lasts one second. And even quicker if I am jerk enough to mutter something like, "Stop that, don't mess up the glass..." and ruin it. (Which I don't, by the way. And I'm thankful I didn't because he just smiled at me while his hands made the squeaky sounds on the glass and then ran away in that toddler sprint to go get his cup of crackers.)

And so what if there's screaming and the house sounds like complete lunacy around 5 o'clock every night because that's when the system seems to break down (like clockwork)? The kind of madness that when someone calls, they sound distracted hearing all of it in the background, forcing them to ask, "Did I catch you at a bad time?" while I respond, "Nope, these are just the sounds of my house! Go on! (Put HIM down!) Sorry. What were we talking about?"

And when it's one in the morning and one of them wakes up crying, out of nowhere, because normally they sleep through the night. I remember there was a time when I wished they both would sleep through the night, but now I know a time where I miss rocking them to sleep and cuddling with them and having a reason to watch terrible infomercials at 3 in the morning. When time seemed to stop and clocks meant nothing to anyone. Oddly, I miss that.

It's not annoying. It's my life. And it all goes so quickly that it makes tears form instantly in my eyes and makes my chest so heavy and tight to think about just how quickly it really all goes. And how selfish I am to want it all to go even quicker sometimes. How could I?? To not stop and relish each moment as a memory, each waking, wonderful moment as something to be gripped on to tightly and held close to me. How could I?!

And the dishes? If I spend the 20 minutes doing them before the kids go to bed because I hate leaving them, then I miss bath time. Where my husband sits there sudsing up the kids in his underwear (because they always splash him when he's wearing his clothes) and they sing songs that make no sense and build things and splash each other and try to drink the dirty bathwater. And who's the winner there? (Not me...)

My house isn't a complete sty. But it's not immaculate. I have three bins of laundry (at any given moment) that need folding right now. But if I sat there folding it this morning, I would have missed out on reading an entire library of Einstein books with my little boy who brought them all out to the living room to read. Every.single.one. Or missed building a "crane" with them, which was really a giant wall of blocks. (And by the way the crane was a crane first, then a castle because of the giant block on top, then a birthday cake because of the way all the single blocks looked on top of the building.)

And then everything inevitably ends up scattered all over the house, the blocks and the books, everywhere. And at one point, I remember thinking, "No one needs this many toys." And almost being annoyed. But why?

Why!

My house shows signs of "family" in it. It's not a model home. It's not four stark white walls with glass tables and furniture with the plastic on it. My walls are painted pretty colors, but they're chipped where the cars have crashed into them a million times (and where I bumped it with the vaccuum...) My couch has crumbled Goldfish in the cushions and a few stains where the sippy cups that aren't supposed to leak, leaked. My floors are constantly covered in crumbs and macaroni despite constant sweeping and mopping, and the bathroom floor, the latest victim of my toddler's accident, needs cleaning. Again.

I'm not going to wish I had someone else's home, because that would be like wishing I had someone else's life. And I happen to like mine. Very much. I realize that life, my life, anyone's life, is just too short to waste on the small things. That getting angry about them really just makes me lose sight of the bigger things. And who can afford to do that? I like my life. Chipped paint, dirty floors, unfinished projects and all.

So if I could just bookmark this piece of very valuable piece of information to read over and over again when I forget as I seem to so often do... No, wait! I have a brilliant idea! I'll print it out, then put it in a little glass box on the wall with the words, "In Emergency, Break Glass!"

Then, it's like killing two birds with one stone! The next time I get mad, not only do I get to break something, I get a zen moment inside! Brilliant!

Then again, I'll have to clean that up. And glass really is quite dangerous for little feet. So nevermind. I'll just bookmark. It's safer for everyone. And in the meantime, I'll just try as much as I can to stop the inner madness for Pete's sake. And be present.

Being Present

https://babytealeaves.blogspot.com/2009/03/being-present.html?m=0

Choices

For clarification, I just want to say, I love staying home.

I wouldn't have had it any other way. I could not physically bring myself to drop my son off at daycare and go to work. I had the option. But I couldn't. I don't judge other women for doing it, I think staying home versus not staying home is an extremely personal choice and everyone should decide what is good for them and their family. I am on everyone's side when it comes to making personal decisions for family. Just to make that known.

Two of my very favorite friends in the world had monumental news for me this week. I had worked with both of them in tv news as grunts. The very bottom rung on the career ladder. Making zilch. Eating, breathing, sleeping work. We were the single, climbing the corporate ladder-20-somethings, passionate, obsessed, go-getter career-women. Able to move or travel anywhere in a single bound should the opportunity present itself. Late nights? Ok! Holidays? Sure! Work through lunch? Of course! No days off? It's necessary! Breaking news? Vacation postponed? Done!

Then, the longer were were in, all of us who started together were really starting to get somewhere. Things had started taking off for me, too, when I got a job as a writer at a bureau at one of the biggest news agencies. I was making it happen. Finally getting somewhere. Gettin' a little respect.

Then I got engaged, left that job, moved back to Florida to be with my husband-then-fiance, and popped out a couple of kids. On the career front, I put things on hold. I decided to stay home. I tried to picture going back to work, but when it came time to make the ultimate decision, I just couldn't do it. Maybe it was because the first one came at 34 weeks and I felt the need to stay with him as long as I could. Then when he was 10 months old and just starting to even think about working again, I found out I was pregnant.

So this week, both of my friends were offered their dream jobs. All that hard work, finally paying off. One works in entertainment and will be paid (and paid well) to travel and cover entertainment news. The other is becoming an actual management big-wig at one of the cable networks. I saw the title. It's unbelieveably fantastic. I can hardly believe it had it not been for her new shiny business card she presented to me, but it's true and they both so deserve it.

And I am doubled over with happiness for them! I mean, this is what it's all been for! Finally! I feel so honored to have been there with them at the beginning. All that thankless work for crap pay is turning into something out of a dream!!

So leave it to me to make their news about me, right?

After all of the excitement over the weekend and talking about it and congratulating them and giddy girly-ness and squealing, when it all settled down and I got a few minutes to myself, after loading the groceries into the car and sitting down at the steering wheel to turn the car on, I just broke down.

And cried. 9 o'clock at night in a grocery store parking lot by myself. Apparently this bothered me in some way.

I was completely overcome and I didn't know why. I wouldn't change a thing in the world about staying home. But I guess I couldn't help but wonder, what if?

Where would I be had I not taken a time-out? What stories would I have covered? What honors would I have had? What amazing people would I have worked for and with? What contacts would I have made? What stories would I have to tell? Which job would have been next? How much closer to my dreams would I be now?

Instead, now I wonder, "What is my dream?"

I'm not that 20-something jet-setter anymore. I don't even know if I have that in me anymore. I thought to myself this hurricane season about offering myself up to freelance in the field should a hurricane hit, but then thought, duh, I'm still nursing, it's not like I can pump in the middle of a satellite truck in the middle of a bunch of old tv guys looming around.

When I calmed down a little after being sideswiped by these emotions I didn't even know I had, I thought about choices. How interesting that choosing a seemingly-simple path like getting
married could take someone down such another, completely unpredictable path. How choosing to get married would parlay so quickly into 30-something, home ownership and having children. And a whole different person of "me" entirely. These were things we chose. I chose. I didn't even think too much about it, come to think of it. I just went with the current of my life. I drifted along, naturally doing what came to me, leaving career for another day, another time. I never asked myself what the options were, I just knew what the options weren't. Like, for reasons very important to me, not marrying this man: not an option. Not moving home where my family was: not an option. Waiting to have kids: not an option.

I did so little thinking about where I was headed that I don't think I prepared myself for how I'd feel once I got there. I didn't foresee how I would feel when I saw what happened to all my friends who chose "Option A", while I chose "Option B".

I didn't think that far ahead.

My only consolation, which is a pretty big one, is that when I look back, I don't see "Option A" as an option. Yes, me. Go-getter-career-girl. I wouldn't change a thing. I wouldn't have chosen "Option A" because that would have meant choosing something other than my husband, who is my absolute, well, absolute. That's really the only way I can put it.

It must follow, too, that somewhere along the way, my career took a backseat. Literally, without telling me, it got out of the driver's seat, closed the door, and sat itself in the back. One day, I woke up and bam! I deemed this man and my family my number one priority. So I guess if we're talking about choices and having it all, I should be so proud that I had pictured my life a certain way and I made that happen. I always pictured marrying the type of man I married. I always pictured having children. I always pictured staying home with them. And I did that.

So what's the problem then? If I wouldn't change a thing, then what's the problem?

Maybe I think it'd have been nice to see how far I could go. Because choosing an entirely different path usually means new forks, and the new forks lead to new places and you can't go back to choose a different first path which would have led to the first set of forks because those are all closed now. But had I chosen that first path, what dream jobs would have been offered to me had I just kept on? What would I have been capable of? I guess, though, that I only need look as far as my front door for that.

I'm capable of raising two loving and hysterically funny children, one of which makes "bandaids" out of turkey slices and plasters them all over his face and the table on their fake "wounds". Of being a wife and on occasion, an understanding one. Of actually cooking a meal without sending anyone to the emergency room. And for that matter, actually being able to "throw something together" and having it taste (dare I say) good. Of coming up with creative ways to teach my children, like "Crazy Carrot Man" for the Letter C. Of reading the same book over and over and over again at bedtime without getting annoyed. Of being able to not exist on Ramen noodles and bologna alone. These are things I wouldn't have known about myself had I not chosen this path. Who knew I'd love being a mother so much? That this path would have chosen me, really, more than I have chosen it?

So I put my career on hold for a while. So it appears I won't be some big manager at a news network anytime soon. That means I have more time to dream up something else, right? To construct a new, maybe even better evil plan. Mwahahaaaaa!

After all, I wouldn't be a woman if I didn't ponder, cry, and/or obsess over this age-old inner conflict about career versus family, right? Because that's what we do.

Now.... back to the Batcave!

Choices

https://babytealeaves.blogspot.com/2008/10/choices_14.html?m=0

Roots (Scroll down for Fat Ticker Friday!)

What a fly on the wall would have heard yesterday while observing a husband and a wife in their natural habitat, sitting outside as their 2-year-old played on the slide in the backyard:

Husband (looking at wife from across the table): "Wow! You're roots are really coming in! I've never seen that before!"
Wife: (Silence).

That's just great.

Roots (Scroll down for Fat Ticker Friday!)

https://babytealeaves.blogspot.com/2008/04/roots.html?m=0